


The Short Stories of the Minuscule Prince of Hell

by Shrinkynatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Castiel, Gen, Humor, Macro/Micro, tiny!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shrinkynatural/pseuds/Shrinkynatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is the product of a union between the king of Hell and a warrior of Heaven. Tired of being left out of the game, he sneaks out of Hell to prove himself to his parents. After a spell goes wrong he ends up with the Winchesters (Heaven and Hell's #1 and #2 on the Most Wanted lists) and makes it his goal to capture them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by [this artwork](http://jennilah.tumblr.com/post/74465487270/completely-inspired-by-this-post-where-castiel-is) by Jennilah and [this gif set](http://finaljudgement.tumblr.com/post/31283633390/supernatural-au-crowley-being-castiels) by Ariane.

Castiel stood upon the Earth, observing with a superior air about him the goings-on of mortals oblivious to his presence. He had slipped up from Hell just as unnoticed against the advice (see: threats of unending torment to his partially-celestial being) of his overprotective father. Such worries were unfounded; he was the son of the king of Hell and a warrior of Heaven. He’d been trained by both sides since he was a fledgling to fight with a furious efficiency, to keep his guard up at all times, to look upon his surroundings with a keen awareness and to take in every detail…

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the barrel that had rolled to a stop against his leg, pushed along slowly by a lazy wind. No, it wasn’t a barrel, it was a…coffee cup? One of the styrofoam ones that his cousin Balthazar liked to bring with him when he visited. Only those weren’t nearly so…large.

Castiel stopped looking at the humans on the other side of the park and focused instead on the environment immediately around him. The grass wasn’t grown wild as he’d first thought—the blades that reached his knees were chopped at their tips—and the tree root at his side didn’t belong to a towering redwood but a completely average oak. Either that or those ants crawling over the root were far larger than  _ they _ should’ve been.

Oh dear.

He may have made an error in his cloaking spell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for beeees and non-graphic violence against a child in an animal defense setting.

Since he certainly wasn’t going back to Hell to find out what he did wrong and fix it, Castiel carefully but quickly made his way to higher ground. This was only a minor setback, he told himself, bringing out his wings and launching himself up into the tree. Two birds and a particularly angry squirrel later proved him wrong and he sat on a branch with a bustling beehive that the other animals gave a wide berth to. Castiel healed the scratches he’d received, put away his wings, and glared at the squirrel giving him the stink-eye from a few branches over.

The bees were far more agreeable with his company and simply went about their business while he rested and tried to come up with a new plan. It would be very difficult to gather information about the creatures of Purgatory at this size, and it seemed that his teleporting ability wasn’t working—a side effect of the spell, he assumed. 

"Don’t get me wrong, this is a very _nice_ planet,” Castiel explained to a curious bee crawling across his lap. He let his fingers gently brush the fuzz on its side. “But my father—the king, you see—needs more power than these human souls provide at the rate they fall into the Pit. They just live so _long_ these days, and every attempt at a plague—just a small one!—is cut down by their ‘antibacterial soap’ and ‘vitamins.’” He air-quoted the words with a disgusted look and heaved out a sigh. “It was much easier before indoor plumbing was discovered.” 

A second bee started to crawl up his back and he absent-mindedly reached back to pet it. Perhaps he could figure out how to breed them larger so he could do this at his normal size. “Monsters don’t go to Heaven _or_ Hell, so we can’t use them, but if I could just—” 

"Oh wow, a beehive! Danny, come look!" 

Castiel grunted at the interruption and slowly leaned around the hive to see a young male human staring up into the tree. Another joined him and tipped his head back as well. 

"That’s so cool! How many bees do you think are in it?" 

"Hundreds! Look how big it is." 

“ _Hundreds,_ ” Castiel huffed in amusement, sitting back and resumed petting the bee in his lap. “Really, humans have no understanding of nature.” 

"Bet you can’t hit it from here," one of the boys taunted. 

There was a loud ‘ha!’ “I bet I can!” 

His hand froze and his eyes darkened, looking down again. “They wouldn’t dare.” 

A rock zinged by Castiel, thankfully missing the hive and the few bees that were outside it. There was laughter and taunting from the boy who’d started the bet and a second later another rock sailed by much closer. It wasn’t enough to spur the hive into action but Castiel had had enough. While the bees could certainly take care of two stupid children, the hive could still be damaged and that wasn’t going to happen while he was here. 

"Excuse me, I have a pressing matter to attend to," he politely spoke and moved the bee on his lap to the branch beside him. The one on his back took a moment longer for him to reach and a third rock went past so close that Castiel could feel the displaced air on his face. His blood boiled. "That is certainly enough of that." 

Once both bees were removed, Castiel unfurled his wings and summoned his weapon. The sword his angelic heritage gifted him with wasn’t much more than a heavy needle at his size but he was confident it would get his point across. 

He swooped down upon the boys as fast as his wings could carry him, circling around their heads. They shouted and flailed their arms in the air but it was simple work to dodge the clumsy limbs and lash out with his sword, leaving angry red grazes along their noses and cheeks. The wounds weren’t fatal but the shocked and pained screams were satisfying enough. He only stopped when the much larger adult humans began to run over to save their despicable children. Castiel darted back up into the tree before they got too close and hid behind the hive again. 

"Oh my god, what happened!" the first adult to arrive gasped, leaning down to inspect Castiel’s work. 

The boy sniffed and huddled close to her. “There was a bird! It came down and just attacked us!” 

"It wasn’t a bird, it was a bat!" the other countered. "It had big leathery wings!" 

“Nuh-uh, stupid! It had _feathers._ ” 

"It did not!" He shoved at the other boy and was immediately and angrily shoved back. 

"Did too!" 

The boys started to scuffle, distracting the adults from bothering to look too closely up at the tree Castiel watched them from. Once they herded the children away, he relaxed and settled back down. His wings felt oddly sore at the exertion and he stretched them out with a groan. They _were_ confusing, he supposed, looking them over. Their general shape was that of a bat but a fringe of feathers grew along the metacarpals and phalanges. At least they were both the same dark brown so it wasn’t terribly obvious. 

Castiel waited at the hive until it got dark, just to be sure the humans didn’t come back. Satisfied that the bees would be safe for now he dropped from the tree and glided to the ground. It would be faster to fly, but he wanted to conserve his strength for emergencies. He would explore this town to see what it had to offer and he’d worry about long-distance transportation later.


	3. Chapter 3

Waiting until dark was a smart move, there were far fewer humans around and Castiel didn’t have to duck and hide in questionable places as much. He made excellent progress, heading down the sidewalk in flapping leaps and peeking in store windows curiously to see what they contained. A lot of them smelled like food and coffee, to Castiel’s disappointment—he loved coffee, and if he’d been his normal size he definitely would’ve procured a cup or ten by now.

He was so caught up in exploring that he almost didn’t notice the shudder that went through his wings. Almost. He froze and looked around, eyes going wide at the sight of Meg, two of her employees, and—oh dear—one of her hounds striding down the street. Meg looked furious, but that was to be expected with how he’d given her the slip back in Hell. It wasn’t only a professional slight, his sneaking off, but a personal one and Castiel felt a twinge of guilt. 

Not enough guilt to return, however, and he took off down the sidewalk away from the trio. He stayed low knowing they wouldn’t be looking at the ground and turned the first corner he came to. It led to a parking lot and the row of vehicles there was the perfect cover; he dived under and ran from car to car, occasionally looking back to make see if the hellhound had caught his scent. After one glance backward he looked ahead just in time to see an enormous boot swinging right at him. Castiel flapped his wings to move away but it still clipped him enough to send him reeling. He spun head over heels until he came to a painful stop as he hit something hard. 

Castiel sat up, head spinning, and realized that he’d been sent _into_ the car that belonged to the owner of the offending boot. He was tucked into the corner of the footwell and judging by the lack of pedals he was on the passenger side. Before he could escape, a giant of a man folded himself into the seat and stretched acres of legs and those gargantuan feet toward Castiel. With nowhere to run he was pinned between the back of the footwell and the sole of the man’s boot. He put his wings away to get a little extra space but the man just took advantage of it and pushed his foot into Castiel more. 

"I called Bobby," the man currently using _the prince of hell_ as his damn footrest and getting dirt all over his suit informed his companion. “He’s sending Garth after the zombie pets and we’re taking the possible urban legend come to life.” 

Castiel blinked at what he was saying. Animals risen from the dead were not a normal topic of discussion among humans, he was fairly certain. There was a scoff from the other side of the car, though Castiel couldn’t see him. “Bobby does know that Garth’s just going to end up trying to take them all home, right? I thought he’d give us that one. I mean, I know we’re a bit far away but we could make it in a couple of days if we switched off and just drove straight through.” 

"Dean, we just finished digging up not one but _two_ graves last night. I really don’t want to spend the next two days sleeping in the car.” 

"Hey, you’ve spent more than two days sleeping in her before, don’t get all whiny now, Sam." 

Castiel mentally cursed his bad luck; it was just one bad thing after another with him. First his spell messed up and left him miniature and now he was trapped in a car with not one but two _hunters_. There was something about their names that sounded familiar and Castiel audibly gasped as he remembered the long, frustrated rants of both his parents about a certain duo of hunters that consistently ruined a number of Earthside footholds they’d tried to set up for their respective sides. 

This was… _perfect_. All of his supposed ‘mistakes’ had been to get him here; close to the _Winchesters_ so that he could capture them and take them home. But to his father or his mother? He wheezed as Sam shifted in his seat and put more pressure on Castiel. Both, he could do both. There were two of them, he’d gift his parents with one each. He was already thinking of giving Sam to his mother and being free to stomp _him_ with his true form in Heaven.


	4. Chapter 4

The drive was torture. Castiel was unable to escape from underneath Sam's boot and he was forced to endure the random press and release as the giant shifted restlessly. Sam had even unconsciously tapped out a beat to a song that Dean had started playing. It was loud and grating and Castiel doubted he would've enjoyed even if he hadn't been hit repeatedly to it for the longest four minutes of his existence.

Freedom came when Dean pulled the car off the road and both men left. As sore and annoyed as he was, Castiel wasted no time in flying out of the footwell. He paused on the dashboard for just a second to take in the parking lot they were in. A brightly lit sign near the road advertised it to be a motel and he knew he'd need to find a way to travel inside with him unless he wanted to be trapped in a car all night. He hopped to the backseat and fluttered down onto one of the duffel bags resting there. Unzipping it just a bit released the odor of sweat and dirty laundry and Castiel wrinkled his nose; there must surely be another way. 

He didn't have time to find out if there was. Dean and Sam's voices drifted ahead of them, warning Castiel to their return. With an aggrieved sigh, he tucked his wings in tight and plunged headfirst into the mess just as the creak of the car doors reached his ears. Dean's voice was closer and Castiel guessed that he was in his bag as he was roughly yanked up--the bag hitting the car's frame and jostling him deeper--and carried away. Every step made the bag bounce against Dean's leg, shifting Castiel and the contents about. A slim box slammed into his side and he bit his tongue to cut off his yelp. Curious as to what it contained, he shoved it aside enough to pull open the top. 

Bullets larger than his head sat inside, almost innocent-looking in their idleness. His heritage made him more resilient in some ways than his kin, but Castiel wondered if even he'd survive having one of those tear through him at his current size. His mother had lost her temper and blown him up once, but _she_ had been the one to put him back together as well so he didn't think that counted in his favor. 

"I call first shower!" Sam announced, his loud voice barely muffled by the layers of clothes Castiel was hidden in. 

Dean huffed and tossed his duffel bag on the bed, sending Castiel deeper into the mess of clothes and weapons. "Fine, just leave me some hot water." 

"No promises!" Sam laughed and Dean's protests were cut off to the sound of a door being closed. 

Castiel struggled to untangle himself and climb back to the top of the bag. This was his chance to attack; the brothers were separated and he was reasonably sure that it would be easier to incapacitate Dean and use him to keep Sam in check. He pulled aside a shirt and shrieked as rocks poured over him and his skin immediately started to burn. Out in the room he could hear Dean drawn closer by the noise but he didn't care, too busy twisting and shoving his way to the top of the bag. He needed out, out, _out_. 

The zipper was drawn back just as he scrambled to the top of the clothes pile and Castiel snapped his wings out and launched himself at Dean's face. He pulled out his sword and swung it wildly as he dodged the giant fists that swung at him. He managed to inflict some minor wounds on the hunter before one of his hands finally connected and sent Castiel crashing to the floor. 

His wings were _aching_ as the rocks stuck and dug in deeper under his feathers but he forced himself to his feet. Dean was stomping towards him and he threw out his hands, shoulders slumping in relief when Dean froze in place. 

"What the fuck!" the hunter shouted. "What the hell are you!" 

Castiel attempted to draw himself to his full height, relatively speaking, but the pain made him gasp and hunch over again. He could see Dean manage a step forward and refocused his concentration on keeping the man still. 

"I'm Castiel, prince of--" He was interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open and Sam hurrying into the room, looking around in a panic. 

"What's wrong?" he demanded, readjusting his grip on his towel and frowning at his brother. "I heard you yelling." 

"It's on the floor!" Dean told him, jerking his head to indicate where Castiel stood. "Be careful, it's strong!" 

Castiel cursed as the ground shook from Sam's booming footsteps and he divided his attention between the brothers, halting Sam in his tracks as well. He let out an audible gasp at the added strain and could feel their calculating stares. 

"It can't hold us both," Dean stated, filling Castiel with dread. "It could barely hold me. Keep trying to push forward!" 

They pushed against his hold simultaneously and Castiel could feel his powers waning. His strength had diminished with his size and the stabbing rocks made him even weaker; there was no way he could keep them back and he certainly wasn't going to be able to capture them. He had to escape _now_ , before he was the one captured. 

An open window just behind Dean caught his eye. It wasn't ideal, but it was the only chance he had. He let out one large burst of power to shove the brothers back and launched himself into the air-- 

\--and screamed as the rocks finally cut into his wings, sending Castiel falling to the floor again. If they had hurt pushing at his feathers, it was pure _agony_ once it was inside him. He tried to reach around to pull them out but he couldn't bend enough and moving only made it worse. His vision started to grey at the edges and he couldn't hear anything over the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

The last thing he knew was a shadow falling over him and something large and warm closing around his body, and then everything went black.


End file.
